


Goro Akechi "Friendship Rehabilitation" Mission Start

by molamola2200



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Amnesia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Post-Ending, akiras sexual orientation: seeing akechi get along with everyone, i multiship but this fic probably leans hardest into akeshu and ryugoro, i'll add more tags as i go along, pretty much everyone is gonna be in this at some point its just akechi/friendship LOL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-03-30 01:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molamola2200/pseuds/molamola2200
Summary: Akechi is alive, but he's missing a few things... It's up to Akira & Co. to catch him up a little bit at a time, and maybe take the opportunity to change his heart in the process. Awkward slice of life style redemption-arc and learning to be a normal human high school student ensue.Just a feel-good, fluffy friendship fic. Post-true ending.





	1. Prologue

Akechi woke up in a hospital bed to no one, and then it occurred to him he couldn’t remember anything before that.

He held his head in his palms, feeling cold and beaten all over his body. He must have been in some kind of accident, he figured, but…

There were gaps— like outlines, or silhouettes, where he could identify the shape but not the content. He remembered being places— but not where, and not with whom. And thinking about it too hard made his head feel like bricks, so he focused on what he could remember clearly:

He knew his name. He knew his father’s name. And that he would be prime minister. He knew enough about his life to know why there was no one sitting in the chair beside his bed.

He squinted at the television set, playing the news on mute. Of course it was the Phantom Thieves… He scowled and shut the thing off.

“Goro Akechi?”

He looked at the door as a nurse came in.

“Oh, you’re awake! I imagine the news must be a shock to wake up to… it’s a shame such a sweet, intelligent young man like yourself got tangled in this political scandal.”

He narrowed his eyes, completely lost— then grit his teeth and smiled anyway.

“Thank you for your concern, I appreciate it very much. If you have a moment, could you update me on the news? I couldn’t actually watch the news; I have a bit of a headache.”

“Of course— within the time you’ve been asleep, Masayoshi Shido has been in court. He issued a statement about setting up your cases and publicity campaign, taking full responsibility. The trial is still ongoing.”

Frankly, he had very little idea of what she was talking about. Shido on trial? What the hell was going on? And not only that, but Shido took responsibility for… _what?_ He took a deep breath. This felt like a dream.

He gave the nurse a onceover, wondering how she could be so relaxed about delivering the news. That’s right, he remembered, no one knew he was Shido’s son. She must have thought theirs was merely an unfortunate business engagement, and Akechi was just one of many who got roped into the scandal. Well, perhaps that was truer. He thought about his job— an ace detective, and now, a bit of a celebrity… though actually, he remembered doing more celebrity work than detective.

“S-setting up—?” He frowned. When he tried to envision the details of his actual _job,_ he got that splitting feeling in his skull again and grit his teeth.

It must have shown on his face, too, because the nurse quickly said:

“It’s alright; I’m sure you won’t be held accountable for the arranged murders— you couldn’t have known. Everyone was so concerned when you disappeared so suddenly; it was a miracle when you ended up here. Please focus on recovering in the meantime.”

Arranged murders? Disappearance? He felt dizzy, and his body ached, but he simply nodded with as agreeable an expression as he could manage. She was merely trying to comfort him.

“Again, thank you very much. For your care and your sentiments. I’m sure I’ll make a speedy recovery from here on…”

“Yes; it’s unclear what the problem was exactly, but the attending physician diagnosed you officially with fatigue and a possible concussion. It shouldn’t set you back long. We plan to discharge you within the next few days if you regain your strength.”

Akechi took stock of his body; was that it? Fatigue? He felt like far more was missing than that. Like entire sections of his mind had decayed into useless patches of emptiness. He wondered what sort of accident could have induced such a condition. Or _if_ it was an accident at all. He sighed.

“Before I go, I wanted to remind you that you’ve received letters, and some gifts, on the desk. Perhaps reading them after you’ve rested will lift your spirits; they started coming in as soon as news of your appearance was posted online.”

With that, she disappeared from the room.

Unable to sleep with anxiety, he looked to the pile of envelopes. On the floor, there were some flowers at varying degrees of health and a couple of boxes, presumably for chocolates and other small gifts. He took up the stack and leafed through them, opening the ones that seemed interesting.

_Get well soon, Akechi-kun! We were so worried!_

_Do your best!_

_You are an inspiration to us…_

He narrowed his eyes in annoyance, but continued to read the formulaic, cheesy messages before setting the opened ones aside. In spite of himself, he savored every stupidly kind thing anyone wrote to him. He was halfway through the pile when he came across a postcard in scrambled font:

_Goro Akechi,_

_The vile, corrupt actions of Masayoshi Shido were inexcusable not only as a politician, but as a father. You were raised to believe you were worthless, and manipulated by him into a life of solitude and crime as a false detective. Though nothing can revoke the injustice you have suffered under his abuse, take comfort in the knowledge that he will imminently atone for these sins as a citizen under the law._

_Your friends,_

_The (Former) Phantom Thieves of Hearts_

He went cold and ran his fingers over the letters, then the logo, then turned the card over in his hands a few times. Then he tucked it in between two insignificant envelopes and put the stack down, shaking slightly.

His head was throbbing. The card could have been a joke, he reasoned; any person could have put that together to get a reaction out of him. Everyone knew his stance on the Phantom Thieves, after all. But the words… that line— “as a father.” Who knew that but him?

_Your friends._

Was that right? Did he know those people? And did they know him? He scoured his mind for the memory, coming up blank. He was just investigating their case; he knew they were a bunch of students… and… and he felt like he had evidence as to their identities, but he couldn’t place any names or faces in his mind. Somehow, he felt certain that he had met them, but couldn’t remember why he thought that. Was he maybe dreaming about it just before waking up?

He lay back down and shut his eyes, trying to think about something else; it felt like his skull might split in two.

Then, involuntarily, he dwelled on the image of a person he vaguely knew— he had first met him after an interview. Akira Kurusu. Student of Shujin Academy. He worked at a café. They were… acquaintances. Which, apparently, must have been a lot for someone as alone as himself, since he felt that perhaps Akira cared about him more than anyone else he had ever known. He flushed with embarrassment just thinking about it.

Akira made lovely coffee. He didn’t speak much; when he did, it was interesting. He had many, many friends around him all the time. And a strange, loud, black and white cat.

And that was all he could remember of Akira Kurusu.

Perhaps Akira was one of the people who sent in a letter, and his mind just clung to the familiar name; he couldn’t remember who said what between the repetitious cards and paragraphs of well wishes. He would have to sort through them again later.

And, he decided then, he would return to Leblanc once he was discharged. Not to socialize; he wasn’t interested in forcing a useless friendship with some juvenile delinquent who, not to mention, already seemed to have his hands full with needy, pathetic teenagers. But the coffee was delicious… and he did want to satiate his curiosity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akechi-centric fic just in time for his birthday! I'll post the first real chapter then (6/2/19).
> 
> Some notes before the fic really begins--  
> \- Sorry if there are any small mistakes or inconsistencies throughout; I'm really just in this for the cuteness lol  
> \- This is 99% based on their personalities in the game; I'm not very caught up on the anime or manga  
> \- I'll update the taglist as chapters come out so that this only shows up in tags where it's actually relevant; there will be many more characters than just these (don't worry, everyone gets a little Akechi love lol)  
> \- This is post-ending, but Akira ... just doesn't move back to his hometown, haha  
> \- Feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions! Thanks for reading!


	2. Return to Leblanc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akira / Akechi chapter mostly. I'll put a heads up in the chapter notes since I'll be featuring many different characters, that way you can pick and choose which chapters you guys read based on which characters you're more interested in. Other than basic plot movement forward, these will be mostly structured like cute little interactions / episodes, so you can skip around or skip updates. Aiming to upload once a week from here on! 
> 
> Also, happy birthday Akechi!

The first thing he did when he got home was google himself. Obsessively. He was determined not to let anyone know the extent of his memory loss; not until he could identify the reason why, or better, restore them. This, he felt, was of the utmost importance. But in searching everywhere, he found no additional information other than that he went missing some time before Shido’s confession, and was found behaving deliriously and incoherently a couple months later. 

Articles reported that he then stayed in the hospital for a few weeks, disoriented or unconscious at first, until that day he woke up with no recollection of the previous weeks— or months, for that matter. And then he was discharged. 

He was informed he would receive compensation from Masayoshi Shido in the coming months, so he could continue his studies and remain in his apartment without worrying about returning to his— apparently fraudulent— detective work. 

He knew Shido was a dishonest politician… and he knew his detective work was arranged to support his platform. But other than that, all the details were foggy in his mind. How did they manage…? He got chills thinking about it, feeling uncomfortable in his own body.

He couldn’t even look through his past correspondences, his files, his laptop— everything had been confiscated in order to build a case, taken from his apartment in his absence. The police had supplied him with a new phone, new computer— but evidently, they weren’t counting on him having memory loss. Now he wished he had kept a diary or something. 

And the Phantom Thieves? 

It seemed that Masayoshi Shido had been their last heist, controversially received by the public. News of them had since dwindled and it was generally assumed that the group had disbanded. The Phan-site administrator posted saying the site would remain up as an archive and tribute to the Thieves’ work. And it was still unclear whether the leader’s suicide on November 20th was a legitimate reporting or was staged as well; though most believed he lived on, reports were divided in the absence of proof.

He stared down at the red and black postcard he had received in the hospital. Even if it  _ was _ a fake or a prank… he couldn’t help but reread it, and touch it, and think about it often. 

He felt like he had been working on all this in his investigation before he… 

He sighed. He had grown accustomed to the frequent migraines, doing his best to avoid them when he could and hide them when he couldn’t. 

Well, that was all he could find. Other than the ongoing prosecution of his father, news had returned to… some semblance of normal. Which made sense, since Shido was the root of so much of the commotion. 

At least now he knew as much about himself as anybody else did.

…

Akira wasn’t thinking about much as he started home from an afternoon out in Shibuya. He saw his friends, went shopping, and studied for his exams in the diner. Since he was released, doing stuff like that… made him feel like he was playing the role of a “normal student.” But the feeling wasn’t unwelcome.

He was dozing lightly on the train when he received a string of texts from Sojiro:

_ Hey, heads up. You have a guest. Just… stay on your toes when you come home, alright? _

_ I could kick him out, but I’ll let you handle your own business. _

_ You’re out of trouble for once, though— so keep it that way. _

Hm. He figured the messages were about Akechi as soon as he read them— after all, he and his friends had just been talking about the news of his reappearance and hospital discharge, though none of them were sure what to make of it. Especially because Akechi himself had yet to appear in any interviews or release a public statement on the ordeal— he hadn’t even so much as posted on social media. Frankly, he had no idea what to expect when he got back.

He stroked Morgana in his bag, which Morgana pretended not to like.

“I don’t know about this, Akira…” he mumbled quietly. “I mean, he tried to kill you… and the rest of us. But after all that stuff in Shido’s palace… Maybe he’s different, now. Sojiro’s reaction didn’t give much away. Are you nervous?”

“No, it’ll be fine.”

As he walked back to Leblanc, he thought briefly about his interrogation; he still couldn’t remember much of it. And then he thought about Shido’s palace. And then he walked in.

“Sojiro, I’m—” he began, but paused as Akechi turned in his seat to look at him. A strong wave of déjà vu washed over him as he saw the former detective sitting there— like they were both just pretending that nothing had changed since the last time he was there. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Akechi gave a polite smile before returning to his cup of coffee.

“— Back,” Akira finished, then proceeded to go upstairs to drop off his things. 

Morgana hopped out of his bag and onto the bed.

“That was kinda weird. He didn’t even say hi.”

“... Neither did I.”

“Are you gonna go back downstairs? You could always just hang out ‘til he leaves, you know…” 

Morgana quieted down as they heard Sojiro’s footsteps on the stairs.

“Just thought I’d come up and talk to you in private. That detective kid— he’s the same one who…?” Sojiro trailed off as Akira nodded. “Thought so. Well, he’s been awfully quiet. Hasn’t mentioned anything yet, just complimented my coffee then watched the news. Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you. I can take care of it, though. You don’t have to come back down if you don’t—“

“No, I’ll come,” Akira said, waving off Sojiro and Morgana’s hesitance. “I should help out anyway.”

“Suit yourself,” Sojiro said, before heading down first.

…

“Good evening, Kurusu-kun,” was Akechi’s choice of greeting. Akira must have made some kind of face at being called that, because he soon added, “Sorry, it must come as a bit of a surprise to see me again after all this time. I myself am still getting reacquainted with my everyday life. I’m sure you’ve been keeping up with the news?”

There was an awkward, lingering pause. Akira wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t— whatever this was. It really  _ was  _ like nothing had changed; or at least, Akechi was set on acting that way. Was it just out of… awkwardness?That seemed a bit much. And still, there was something brighter, almost— or more plain— about the person sitting before him. But he could have been imagining that. It  _ was  _ weird seeing him in his casual clothes again, after all. 

He didn’t really know how to respond, so he just nodded and adjusted his glasses. 

“I… sincerely hope I’m not unwelcome here,” Akechi went on, trying to ease the weird tension in the air. Sojiro, who was working behind the counter pretending to not listen, visibly tensed— likely biting back some bitter comment. 

That’s right, Akechi remembered now that he was here, Akira was a proponent for the Phantom Thieves from day one… and absolutely detested Masayoshi Shido. Maybe… coming here was a mistake. He braced himself and decided to try again:

“I know I’m Masayoshi Shido’s—” 

Akira knew he was about to say ‘son.’ That wasn’t the weird part. What was weird was the way he was trying to hide it, like Akira didn’t already know— was it just because Sojiro was there? It’s not like there were any other customers present to eavesdrop. Akira frowned.

“— former detective… and it’s not such an attractive label anymore, I suppose,” he laughed. He was quite a good actor usually, but this time it came off a little unnatural. Sojiro subtly cocked a brow at Akira, who had no explanation. Things were silent for a few seconds, until Sojiro finally said:

“Sorry to interrupt your catching up, but I think I’m going to get home a little early tonight. Unless you need help with anything else?” 

Akira shook his head. He knew Sojiro was trying to give them space, and he appreciated it. Maybe once it was just the two of them, he could get Akechi to explain himself. Or at the very least, get some more information out of him. 

“Alright. Don’t hang out too late, okay? You still have school in the morning. And… text me if you need anything.”

Once he was out the café, Akira shot him a quick thank you text and reassured him that everything was fine.

“He must trust you a lot, letting you handle things alone here. I mean, that’s to be expected, of course— you seem like a reliable employee.” 

“I guess,” Akira said. “Are you working?”

“I… thought it might be best to take a break and focus on my studies for now… I’m not sure the public would take too kindly to me returning to detective work right away anyway,” he went on. He stared into his coffee cup, hands shaking slightly. He felt a mounting headache behind his eyes, but was determined not to let it get the best of him. “A- Anyway, what do you think? I’m talking too much— and you’ve only just arrived home; what an unpleasant welcome.”

Akira paused. 

“It’s fine,” he said, drying some cups and stacking them behind the bar to give himself something else to focus on while he was thinking. He maintained his poker face. “It’s good to rest. Especially since… you’ve been absent. I know the feeling.”

“Oh, do you?” Akechi said politely, though he didn’t raise his head to make eye contact. He sipped the coffee, finding the bitter flavor grounding, but his hands were shaking enough that a drop of coffee splashed onto the saucer as he placed it down again. He bit his lip. Why was this happening now? 

“Do you miss a lot of class?” he asked, to shift the focus onto Akira instead. 

Akira furrowed his brow, staring down at Akechi’s hands, and the spilled coffee. He could tell he had something else on his mind, or that he was upset— but couldn’t decide on the best way to bring it up. 

“... Not intentionally. Um. Are you… cold?” Okay, well, that probably wasn’t it. 

“Huh?” Akechi blinked, then felt embarrassed. “Oh, no, not at all. I— I suppose I must still be a little weak, from…” 

He actually had no idea where he’d been in those months he was missing. He trailed off uneasily, and now the pain was bad enough that it was starting to show; he was grimacing, and seemed a little pale. Akira and Morgana exchanged glances, and then Akira went and got a glass of cool water, gently sliding it over to him.

“From being in the hospital,” he gently finished his sentence for him. “Well, it’s getting late… will you be able to make it home safely after this?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” he answered quickly, reflexively. Then he took a sip of the water, thought about it some more— then wanted to die, since that would have been easier than dealing with this. “Or… I— I don’t know. It’s… you shouldn’t… trouble yourself, though. I should have known not to push myself so early; this is my fault.”

“Well, regardless, you’re here right now. Do you need to lie down?”

Maybe it was because Akechi frequented this café so often, or maybe Akira just had that air about him— but for some reason, he felt it was alright to rely on him. Which was an uncommon feeling for him… and it made him feel pathetic. But when he looked up into Akira’s stern, attentive eyes, he felt that he couldn’t lie to him.

“That… would be nice.” 

Akira first went to lock the front door, then cleared away Akechi’s cup. 

“Can you walk?” 

“Yes, I think I can manage that much.” 

He stood slowly and carefully on his own, taking his briefcase in one hand… at least, until Akira came from behind him and took it. 

“I got it. You can use the couch, okay?” 

Akechi nodded, going up the stairs first. The higher he got, though, the worse his headache became. Had he… been here before? He painstakingly forced himself up each step, but when he reached the attic, the first thing he saw was the square Phantom Thieves poster hanging on the wall. He blinked and saw himself— in the past— standing around the table with a group of kids, talking. It felt more like a hallucination than a memory; just the flash of an image, and then it was gone, and he was alone again. 

Then all of a sudden he felt like he was going to pass out, making a pained sound as his knees buckled. 

“Wh— Akechi?!” Akira rushed up the rest of the stairs with Morgana following close behind, and put a hand on his back. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Akechi was breathing hard, eyes shut. He tried to remember what he just saw, but it was obscured by pain. All he knew… was that he had been here before. But why? And why couldn’t he remember? Suddenly his amnesia felt like an ocean, dwarfing any amount of security or certainty he’d gathered up to then. Whatever this was… was far worse than he could probably conceive of. He wanted to curse out of frustration, but Akira’s hand on his back reminded him that he still needed to act at least somewhat normal. 

And, right— Akira. What did Akira know about him… that he didn’t?

He shivered, suddenly feeling like he was relying much more on him than he thought he was. He wasn’t sure whether that made him want to stay or go. Not like he had much of a choice in his condition, though. He wondered if he should feel like he was in danger. Then he wondered why he was so sure he wasn’t. 

“Hey. Akechi?” 

Akira was still talking to him, kneeling in front of him now. 

“... Hm?”

“Can you stand up?”

Before he could even answer, Akira was extending a hand to him, practically lifting him off the floor with a surprising amount of confidence. He kept his eyes closed, and didn’t open them even when he was laid down on the couch. He rolled so that he faced the inside of the couch, curling up as much as he could. He didn’t want to look at Akira’s face, meet his gaze… possibly out of shame, or maybe fear. Then Akira knelt at the side of the couch and gently touched his arm.

“... Akira?”

Akechi sounded strangely lucid, even to himself. Akira’s hand on him was grounding; maybe it was even easing his headache a little. 

“Yes?”

“C… can we talk?”

Akira furrowed his brow, then looked at Morgana, who gave him whatever the cat equivalent of a shrug was. 

“… Sure. But I’m going to get you some water first. And… painkillers.”

“That’s… fair. Thank you.” 

Akechi seemed to be smiling, even though his expression was obscured. Before going downstairs again, Akira pulled the blanket off his bed and spread it over him, which made him flush with embarrassment… the thing even smelled like him. He sank a little into the couch, buried his face in the blanket (only to block out the light, of course), then proceeded to pass out quicker than Akira could return. 


	3. Personal Attendant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another Akira/shuake-centric chapter (and a little Morgana, but he's doing cute cat stuff lol). This is still basically part of the 'introduction' - next week's update will start off him really interacting with other characters. (Starting with Ryuji! Super excited.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Akira came back a few moments later, softly padding up the stairs with a cool glass of water and some heavier painkillers he got from Tae, only to find that Akechi was unconscious by then. He set down the cup and the pills on the desk, where Morgana was seated with his paws tucked under himself like a loaf.

“Did he just fall asleep like that?” he asked, in a whisper. It had been like, a minute. He frowned.

“Yeah… he seems pretty beat up. Do you think this has anything to do with—” Morgana began, when Akechi stirred a little underneath the blanket.

Akira held a finger to his lips, then motioned for Morgana to follow him back down the stairs into the café.

“Best not to wake him. What were you saying?”

Morgana hopped up onto the bar counter since Sojiro wasn’t there to nudge him away. He watched attentively as Akira boiled some water to make tea for himself.

“Just that… I don’t know about this, Akira. This must have something to do with the Metaverse, don’t you think? Because he…”

Morgana got quiet, not wanting to say it aloud. The memory was a sore spot for all of them, but Akira seemed to take it the hardest. As he did with most things, after all. Blaming himself for every small failure their group encountered, and blaming himself extra for the bigger ones. And what happened to Akechi… might have been the worst. He had maybe— _barely—_ forgiven himself for everything else. But not that, not yet.

“But he didn’t die.” Akira poured his hot water into a mug with a teabag. His face was cool and controlled as his mind spiraled into a rapid series of questions, hands absently stirring the steaming tea. “Apparently.”

“But he’s acting… weird, isn’t he?” Morgana asked, tail flicking a little with hesitation. He paced back and forth on the bar.

“That’s an understatement.”

Akira grabbed a saucer and poured out a shallow dish of milk. He carried both drinks to a booth where Morgana followed him and sat down, contently lapping up the treat.

“We should tell the others when we get a chance and see what they think, too. Who would’ve thought he’d just show up here like this? … Do you think he got our card?”

“Probably… but we can’t know for sure yet.” Akira sipped at his tea, glasses fogging up. Then he went on his phone for a minute, typing out a message, then looked back up at Morgana. “Futaba is awake. Do you think you can go catch her up? I want her to gather as much information as possible.”

“Ugh, alone with Futaba…?” Morgana whined, but truthfully she was one of his favorites, and he didn’t mind at all.

“I can convince her to split a ramen with you,” he said enticingly, with a hint of a smirk. Then he lowered his voice, becoming serious. “And… we don’t know how urgent this is. I want to be as prepared as possible.”

“Yeah. Make sure to get some rest too, okay? Will you be fine alone…? I know he’s weak and all, but what if he…”

“That won’t happen,” Akira said, believing it to be true. He knew he had no reason to be so confident, though, so he added, “And I can handle it.”

He stood with his tea, then stroked Morgana’s fur before clearing away his dish.

“See you tomorrow then?”

Akira nodded, and then Morgana was out the door, off to the Sakura household.

…

Akira was in the middle of changing into pajamas, trying to be as quiet as possible, when:

“Akira?”

Great timing, he thought. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time they had to change in front of each other, so it didn’t really matter. He proceeded casually.

“Yeah?”

“My apologies—” Akechi began, turning his head to face Akira before catching a glimpse of his bare torso. He immediately spun back around to face the couch before he could be noticed, face flushed. Was Akira always so— no, he shouldn’t think about that. He could just pretend he’d never turned around. “Um, I— I must have fallen asleep pretty suddenly. How long was I…?” he asked, sounding vaguely groggy.

“Maybe an hour… I wasn’t counting.” Akira finished changing then sat down on his bed, keeping an eye on Akechi and his phone at the same time.

“Oh, that’s not so bad,” Akechi said, blinking to adjust himself to the light. “Could I ask one more thing? … A bit ago— I was probably just imagining it, but were you speaking to someone? Downstairs, I mean. I heard your voice, and…”

He couldn’t exactly recall the other half of the conversation; it felt fuzzy, like he could have been imagining it. Probably because he had been half-asleep when he was eavesdropping… and he couldn’t even really make out the words from upstairs anyway.

“Oh—” He was about to say it was Morgana, then bit his tongue. “I was… on the phone. Sojiro called to check that I closed up properly.”

“Well, I’m still here, so I suppose you haven’t,” he joked, stirring a little on the couch. “That explains it, though. I must sound paranoid— I was just wondering if there was someone else in the café, is all.”

“Just us…” Akira scrolled through his ongoing texts with Futaba and Morgana; they were sending him little updates here and there. “You sound more alert; are you feeling better?”

“Much, thanks.” That was only half-true; yes, he was feeling enormously better than when he had basically fainted from pain, but he still felt drained, disoriented, and disturbed by the sudden migraine… not to mention the unexplained déjà vu he had, which filled him with a constant sense of unease. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you tell me what time it is…?”

“Almost eleven,” he answered. “... You should call out of school tomorrow.”

“What about yourself?”

Akira wasn’t expecting that question; he hadn’t given it much thought. Was Akechi just going to sleep in the café alone? No, Sojiro probably wouldn’t take too kindly to that— it would be best if he stayed behind as well. Sure, he had already missed a ton of class, but… oh well, he thought, his grades could handle it. Probably.

“Well, of course I’d stay if you needed me to,” he said, without much emotion in his voice. He felt himself get a little warm in the face, though. “Why?”

“Oh— haha, that’s not what I was getting at, that would be much too generous. I may be in recovery, but I assure you I can get along just fine without a personal attendant twenty-four seven.” He smiled involuntarily, feeling warm at the suggestion of spending the day here… then chided himself inwardly.

No, he should leave first thing in the morning, he thought— as soon as he was rested enough to stand. He had already stuck around too long… and this wasn’t Akira’s problem. He probably only offered to stay because he was used to taking care of everybody else, anyway— and Akechi didn’t need to be lumped together with the rest of his clingy, demanding friends. And, he reminded himself… they _weren’t_ friends.

“I was just asking… so I could let you get to sleep,” he mumbled more quietly, sounding comparably disheartened.

“I never stay up this late. It’s fine.” At Akechi’s ‘personal attendant’ comment, he remembered the pills and water, then got up off his bed and fetched the two before kneeling at the side of the couch. “Almost forgot. Can you sit up? You don’t feel sick, do you?”

Akechi was alarmed at how close he was suddenly. It made him tense, and nervous, and embarrassed— but there was also an extremely compelling sense of familiarity between the two of them. He knew it would be best if he just did as he was told and sat up, though he still didn’t make eye contact.

“Oh, no— I’m mostly alright, now.” He gratefully took the cup of water in one hand and the pills in the other, about to down them out of habit, when he paused, looking down into his hand. “Wait— what… what are these pills? I don’t—”

He didn’t honestly think there was anything wrong with them, but he realized it was abnormal to be so eager to take an unlabeled medication from a near-stranger while basically incapacitated in their bedroom. That… should _not_ have been his immediate impulse. What was going on with him? Was he just so endeared to Akira that he lost his sense of danger?

Meanwhile, that reaction tipped Akira off— this was medicine they frequently shared when exploring the Metaverse. Akechi… should have recognized it. And it was telling that he didn’t. He decided it was best not to mention that yet.

“They’re from the clinic nearby, Tae Takemi’s. I…” He fumbled as he improvised a lie. “I got them when I… sprained my wrist. They’re just slightly more effective than over the counter painkillers.”

“Oh.” Honestly, that answer was sketchy as hell, but apparently enough for Akechi since he proceeded to down them, then finish half the glass of water. “Thank you.”

“Hopefully it helps. Is this blanket enough? I have a spare for myself.” Akira was already standing up to go back to his bed.

That reminded Akechi that he was literally wrapped up in _Akira’s_ blanket, and he became hyper-aware of how it felt on his body. That is, warm and lightly scented of coffee, cologne, and cats. The intimacy was… jarring, and made him feel flustered. Shouldn’t he be the one using the spare…? He laid back down, balling up some of the blanket in his hands, trying to think about something else.

“This… is more than enough. Thank you for everything; I know this is far beyond what a café patron is entitled to ask for. We’re practically strangers, after all… I only hope I can repay you somehow soon.”

‘A café patron’? _Strangers_? Akira frowned, feeling troubled as he set up his own bed, then shut off the light. So his suspicions were starting to be confirmed. He took off his glasses and set them on the windowsill, then stared out the window at the night sky.

“That’s not necessary. I… would do this for any of my friends. Good night.”

Friends.

Akechi held his breath involuntarily, then looked over at Akira, barely illuminated by the moonlight streaming in. He stayed like that for several minutes, watching the rise and fall of Akira’s chest under the blanket as he drifted off. Then he laid on his back and looked up at the ceiling until his eyes landed on the Phantom Thieves poster hanging above the couch.

He felt a dull pain behind his eyes, then closed them.

Akira was enough of a fan to have a poster like that, huh…

Or…

He opened one eye to glance over at the sleeping person across the room again before exhaustion got the best of him.


	4. Ramen Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji chapter, plain and simple. Just banter and cuteness. Thanks for reading, & see you next week!

After that impromptu sleepover, Akechi spent a lot of time thinking about Akira— and his peculiar…  _ enthusiasm  _ for the Phantom Thieves— in his spare time. But, out of embarrassment, or maybe something more like guilt, he refrained from visiting Leblanc again too soon, and resolved not to stop by until he could at least sort out some of his own problems. He wasn’t sure why he felt so guilty… and that definitely wasn’t the only thing he felt toward Akira— but he imagined it had to do with the strange mental blocks he was experiencing.

He was thinking about these things as he stared out the train’s window absently, feeling his heart beat in his chest and his breath catch in his throat. He bit his lip. It seemed that they were a lot closer than he could remember. What a strange person, he thought. Someone who seemed to have  _ actually  _ managed their way into his otherwise solitary life, and yet, he had no recollection of how or why. Only his theories for now.

He wished… he could remember their past interactions with one another. 

He sighed as he arrived at a cozy ramen shop for dinner, alone, like he preferred. Well, it’s not like he had many choices for people to eat with anyway. He opened his phone for a moment, scrolling through his messages… They were mostly just messages from the police or his teachers. The contacts list was pathetically barren despite the fact that he had been using it for many weeks at this point… other than the addition of Akira’s number that day he stayed over. But he wasn’t about to go inviting him out at random just because he could. 

He had been trying to keep a low-profile since his discharge from the hospital, avoiding his usual places where he was likely to run into past business contacts or fans. Of course, it still happened from time to time, but the invasive questions (which he couldn’t even answer) and constant putting on a face wore him out. At least he got to try new restaurants in the process.

He thought he would have a break from dealing with Akira-related questions for a while since he was steering clear of Leblanc, but apparently— of course— he couldn’t be that lucky.

“Whoa, hey! Is that really you, Akechi?” 

Akechi was deeply startled by a slap on his shoulder, expecting some middle schooler fanboy based on the rowdy voice and the rude enthusiasm. But then he turned around and saw that it was Ryuji Sakamoto. He couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or relieved. He grit his teeth with irritation, then lit up with a forced smile. 

“Ah— yes… Hello, Sakamoto-kun. Long time no see, I guess.” 

Ryuji’s grin faltered just a little. It was weird hearing Akechi call him by his family name again, as opposed to his first name or his codename like they used while they were teammates. But he quickly pepped up again, as not to arouse suspicions or make Akechi feel self-conscious.

“So you remember me, huh? I’m glad!” 

Akechi blinked and wondered if Ryuji knew about his amnesia— then realized it  _ had  _ been a long time since they’d seen one another; that was a normal reaction for someone to have. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Still, there was something vaguely soothing about interacting with someone so wildly different than himself… It allowed him to take his mind off of things. And… though Ryuji was stupid… and annoying… he was likely a decent person at heart. Maybe that was the trick to being nice, he thought— just be a naïve, impressionable idiot. 

“Of course I remember you… we met at the television station a while ago. And you’re always following Akira, like a dog.” Alright, he couldn’t hold back that comment. He was a little surprised at himself, though; he was usually better at acting polite in front of people.

“Wha— hey, don’t put it like that, man,” Ryuji said, lightly hitting his shoulder again before inviting himself to the adjacent seat. He sat down loudly, prompting Akechi to hide his face a little out of embarrassment.

“Um… take it as a compliment. Everyone loves dogs… they’re quite friendly.” 

“Is that what you think of me?” He laughed at Akechi’s (poor) attempt to recover the insult. He rubbed his neck a little bashfully. “Well, I  _ guess  _ it’s fine. As long as you’re a dog-lover, too.”

He winked.

“May I refuse to comment?” Akechi said, then sipped his drink with a bit of a smirk. This dynamic felt familiar. Maybe because Ryuji just made everyone feel like they had been friends with him forever. He tried not to enjoy himself too much. 

“Hey!” Ryuji laughed and pushed him. “Don’t treat me like some nosy interviewer, Mr. Ace Detective! This is just about me!”

Akechi smiled first, then his expression darkened with anxiety as he looked around, checking if anyone had overheard them. Luckily, the people at this shop seemed to mind their own business— or they were too engrossed in slurping noodles, more likely. Good. Being noticed right now would ruin everything… especially considering the fact that the ‘ace detective’ label didn’t even apply to him anymore. Nor did it ever. 

“Oh, shit— sorry, man.” Ryuji frowned at his own slip-up. “... Don’t suppose I can start calling you Mr. Ex-Detective instead without getting punched or something, huh?”

Leave it to Ryuji to make a joke like that. It was far less awkward than someone getting all weirdly apologetic, though, so he actually didn’t mind. 

“Well, that might be a little more accurate, now…” He sighed. “And I hope I haven’t done anything so hotheaded or violent to give you the impression that I’d ever punch someone for making fun of me?” 

In truth, he absolutely would. It irritated him beyond belief when people thought they were qualified to judge him, or when random strangers thought they could act all buddy-buddy with him. But he would never act on it in public, of course. 

Ryuji tried not to laugh at the comment. No, he knew and remembered that Akechi was  _ definitely  _ the type of person who would slug him for throwing around stupid jokes and drags. 

“It’s always the quiet, sweet ones you gotta look out for. Like Haru, too. I’m just coverin’ my ass— you guys are scary!” 

Akechi wondered what he could have done to give some random student that impression— he was never publicly threatening or forceful. Perhaps he came across too stern in television interviews. Oh, maybe it was that Ryuji was a Phantom Thieves fan, too, like Akira… that would explain the reaction. But—

“Haru… Okumura? I suppose I could see that.” 

He knew he had met her before… maybe when he was investigating her father’s murder case— though he couldn’t recall any of those details. Even thinking about it made him feel weary and lightheaded. Then he remembered that she was another one of Akira’s friends. They had probably hung out around each other, or he had seen her around, in the café. That felt right to him, somehow. And it explained why Ryuji was familiar with her as well. 

He zoned out while musing on this for a while, but was snapped back into his surroundings by Ryuji’s voice.

“Akechi? Dude, you good?” he asked, waving a hand in front of his face. 

“Huh?” Akechi blinked. 

“You got all quiet for a sec there. Something bothering you?” He picked up his own glass of water and poured half of it into Akechi’s almost empty cup. “Drink somethin’. Akira was telling me that the whole hospital thing’s been rough… must be a pain. I get real antsy whenever something’s the matter with me.”

“A— Akira? Was talking about me?” He sounded more startled than he meant to. He sipped some water to avoid having to speak more. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. Or if he was, that Ryuji was too oblivious to notice. 

“Huh? Oh— yeah. ‘Cuz he skipped school that day; we were just looking for him,” he said casually, careful about how much he revealed. “Said you didn’t feel good and stuff.”

“Oh.” Akechi averted eye contact. “Did he… say anything else?”

Ryuji figured Akechi was probably nervous about the memory loss— Akira and Morgana had mentioned it was related to the Metaverse, since those seemed to be the only memories missing. But because of Akechi’s physical condition, everyone had agreed to keep quiet until they understood the problem better. After all, it would be easiest for Akechi that way, too— he had enough on his plate trying to resume his normal life between the press and Shido’s confession.

Truthfully, though, Akechi… just wanted to hear what Akira was saying about him. Any additional information would have been nice too, of course. 

“Uhh…” Ryuji thought about it for a second, picking out what was safe to divulge. “Well, he talked about making you coffee and breakfast…? And he felt bad about you missing class. And sleeping on the couch. But I sleep on that couch all the time; it’s like… a six outta ten for comfort.”

“Hm. Eight,” Akechi said quietly, feeling warm as he thought back on the memory. 

That day was uneventful… he had meant to leave, but Akira woke him up with breakfast in bed before he could even think of it. Then they just relaxed, as per Akira’s recommendation; he was quite doting despite his aloof demeanor. And… he had failed to get any more clues about his past out of him— Akira was quite masterful at concealing his thoughts. But he knew by now that trying to tackle the amnesia just put him through a lot of pain, anyway, so maybe that was all for the best. Maybe Akira had already figured it out by then.

“What?! You’re nuts, that thing’s tiny! I guess, so are you though…” That comment made Akechi fume a little inside. “Still can’t believe a celebrity actually has lower standards than I do, though. I guess I  _ was  _ pretty surprised to see you in a little place like this— this is like, my main joint for cheap noodles.”

“I wasn’t aware of the reputation. Or the customer base. I suppose I’ll steer clear next time?”

“Wh— hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!” 

…

They walked together to the train station, at Ryuji’s insistence. Akechi looked at the clock and was stunned to see how long they had actually spent together; he never took that long when he was eating alone. The thought made him flush a little with embarrassment. 

“You can get home okay on your own?”

“Yes… That’s a strange thing to ask another male your age, isn’t it?” 

“Wh— don’t take it the wrong way or anything, I just don’t wanna hear you like, collapsed in some nasty subway station or whatever. Y’know, ‘cuz of what Akira told me and all.” Ryuji kicked an empty can on the side of the road, walking with his hands in his pockets. 

Akechi didn’t have much of a response; he felt warm… and ashamed… at all the genuine care Ryuji was affording him. He had been nothing but mean to him in return, too— what’d he do to deserve anything like that? Was it just because he was a friend of Akira’s?

“I… appreciate your concern, but you don’t have to treat me this way just because we have a mutual contact.” 

“Mutual— what? Dude, it’s not that big a deal. We’re just bros. Don’t be so weird about it, okay? I mean, I care about Akira and all, but that’s got nothing to do with this. I’d do it either way.” 

He knew he should be careful about what he gave away, especially since he had no way of knowing how much Akechi actually remembered of their interactions, but he couldn’t help being friendly. After what happened in Shido’s palace, he felt strongly protective of Akechi. Especially  _ this  _ Akechi— one who didn’t seem to remember being a murderer. One who… they might actually have a chance with.

He pat his shoulder as they arrived at the station, waiting for the next train to pull in. 

Akechi bit his lip and looked away, not exactly sure how to respond without it sounding fake and awkward. There was a few seconds of silence before Ryuji just took the hint and continued talking. 

“Uhh… anyway, text me if you ever wanna grab a bite, ‘kay? I’m gonna head out—”

“Shouldn’t we exchange information, then?”

“Don’t you have my number and ID from the group chat, though?”

“What?” He blinked. A group chat…? When would he have been in a—? He instinctively took out his phone to check, then remembered, disappointingly, that all his devices had been replaced during his absence.

“Oh, shit— uh, I mean, just text Akira for it. Catch ya later?”

“... Okay. See you, Ryuji.” 

Akechi got lost in his thoughts on his way home. Bumping into Ryuji… certainly gave him much more to think about than he was anticipating. 


End file.
